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An hour later, I was standing behind the counter of Helpful Friends Food Pantry & Kitchen. It was a dingy, musty basement in a bad part of Harlem, with fluorescent lights, crammed full of smelly, obviously impoverished people.
“It’s always so good to have a new volunteer!” A round woman wearing a nametag that read ‘Karen’ squeezed my shoulder tightly. “We’ve really been struggling lately!”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. I looked around, overwhelmed by the disgusting stench of shit, piss, and dried sweat. “Is it always this crowded?”
Karen threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, no!” She tittered loudly. “This is very light, Mr. Amoruso!” She squinted, staring at my face as if seeing me for the first time. “Say, you’re not related to the Amorusos, are you? That restaurant family?”
I chuckled. “Actually, I’m the CEO,” I said. I smiled genuinely.
Karen’s cheeks flushed. “Oh my,” she said. “I had no idea we had such a celebrity in our midst!” She led me past a group of homeless people eating a disgusting, lumpy stew out of tin bowls. “I’m sure you’re not used to the likes of this!”
I chuckled. “No,” I said, looking around in disgust. “I certainly am not.”
Karen pulled me behind the counter and handed me an apron. “This isn’t fancy cooking,” she said. “Just forget all about that chichi Italian stuff! Just hand each person some soup, some bread, and a piece of fruit.” Karen pointed to a pile of apples that already looked rotten. “It’s not very difficult,” she said with a smile.
I tried to disguise the rampant disgust I felt. They call this food, I thought I as I glanced down at the gluey, grey stew. This is disgusting! I wouldn’t eat this if I were starving!
I looked at my phone. It felt like hours had passed, but I groaned quietly when I realized I’d only been Helpful Friends for less than a half hour. The windowless basement was the antithesis of beauty, and I couldn’t wait until I was back in the relative splendor and comfort of my own home.
A loud bell rang and a crowd of homeless people in tattered, smelly clothing lined up. I tried not to look into their dirty faces as I landed stew into their bowls and handed them bread and fruit. Some of them stared down at their feet – I guessed they were ashamed – but some beamed into my face and thanked me with heartfelt kindness. I knew that I shouldn’t be feeling as disgusted as I was, but I couldn’t help it. I’d never been around people this poor in my whole life, and it made me feel uncomfortable.
A camera flashed in my face and I looked up, dazed. “What the hell?” I frowned as I saw a reporter making his way through the building.
“Mr. Amoruso! Mr. Amoruso! How long have you been helping the homeless?”
I gritted my teeth and forced a
smile. “I’ve just begun helping,” I said. “I’m trying to change this city from the ground up, and I realized that in order to make that happen, I’ve got to get in myself. I can’t just keep expecting people to support the Amoruso family unless they know what we really stand for.”
The reporter nodded, scribbling notes on a pad as he filmed me. I smiled and mugged for the camera, wondering who had tipped a news crew off about my presence at the soup kitchen.
Silvio, I realized with a touch of pride. He may disagree, but damn if that man doesn’t know how to help promote with the best of them.
The reporter clicked a few more pictures. For the last one, I pulled a couple of homeless people out of line and wrapped my arms around their skinny, shaking shoulders.
When Karen saw, she shook her head and clicked her teeth. “Mr. Amoruso, we typically frown on news personnel here,” she said sternly.
I shrugged and grinned. “I didn’t call ‘em,” I said lazily. “Why the hell would I do something like that?”
17
Beth
I barely slept that night. Alessio haunted my dreams – in ways that managed to make me both terrified and incredibly aroused. When I woke up, my panties were soaked through and my clit was throbbing for want of attention. But my sheets were damp with sweat, and my hair was clinging to my head in sodden tangles. I yawned, then wrapped my bathrobe around my naked body and padded into the bathroom.
A long, lukewarm shower helped me feel more human again. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach that couldn’t be loosened, though. Not even a mug of my favorite peppermint tea mixed with three tablespoons of honey was enough to calm me down.
By the time Heather woke up, I’d been sitting at the kitchen table for hours.
“Hey,” Heather said. She sat down and looked at me with concern. “You okay?”
I nodded slowly. “I don’t know.” I swallowed. Alessio was weighing so heavily on my mind – I was dying to tell her what happened, but I feared her judgment.
“Oh, Beth, it’ll be okay,” Heather said. She reached over and rubbed the back of my hand with her own. Compared to my icy skin, her touch was almost hot enough to burn.
“I wish,” I said. I sighed. “I’m sorry to be such a burden all the time. You probably miss your fun friend.”
